


Pretty Little Things

by LandOfMistAndSecrets



Series: (Octopath) Tumblr Prompt Fills & Ficlets (NSFW) [2]
Category: Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: Consensual Sex With Heavy Dubcon/Noncon Elements, M/M, Major Spoilers, Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-13 19:26:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16024421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LandOfMistAndSecrets/pseuds/LandOfMistAndSecrets
Summary: Summary is in the notes due to endgame spoilers - please note the content in the tags.





	Pretty Little Things

**Author's Note:**

> "Simeon / Mattias NSFW, Mattias recently said 'fuck off' to his entire religion, Simeon wants this attractive priest in his bed, and for his part, Mattias says okay because his vows of chastity might as well go up in flames like everything else in his life." 
> 
> This fic has elements of heavy dubcon/noncon, so please read with caution if you are sensitive to these things! Thank you and otherwise, enjoy.

"I've seen the way you look at me." 

Simeon paused, listening to the young ex-priest's words echo down the hall at his back. He turned them over in his mind, a little thrill shivering down his spine. Was it an accusation, an invitation, or both? 

Both, he hoped. So much more interesting than the alternatives. 

He glanced back over his shoulder, lifting a brow in polite inquiry, but Matthew -- No. _Mattias_ , as he now preferred to be called, only glowered at him. He had a lovely glower. No wonder, with all the time he spent practicing it. 

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said, I have _seen_ the way you look at me, Simeon. Your... fascination, I suppose. Once, I think I might have taken offense." 

"Hah." Simeon tilted his head, keeping an artful little half-smile curve to his lips. "And now?" 

Mattias dropped his eyes. He took a breath. His plain woven robe fair hung off his narrow frame, but he had a beautiful face. Long lashes, soulful eyes. His tragedies clung to him like a heady aroma, and Simeon had always been weak to such things.

"And now," he said, so softly Simeon had to strain to hear it, "I feel..." he lifted his chin. The defiant line of his set jaw gave his answer, but Simeon waited patiently, eager to hear the words. "The vows I took. So many _vows_ , Simeon, we speak them so solemnly, so -- self _righteously_ , so sure in our devotion. I remember them still. Each time I break one of the foul things, I feel so light. Like casting off a chain around my very soul." 

"So poetic," Simeon murmured, turning to face him in full. He let his eyes linger on his lips, on the pale expanse of exposed skin at the hollow of his throat. "You know I am ever a fool for pretty words." 

"Pretty words and touching tragedies," Mattias scoffed. "I know." 

"Mm." Simeon let his gaze travel slowly back up to meet the other man's eyes. He found them glaring back. Perfect. The twin spots of color on his cheeks only sweetened the tableau. "An intriguing proposition, to be sure. I'm afraid I have business to attend to, for the moment..." 

This treated him to the sight of Mattias's brow furrowing, his face darkening to a dangerous degree. Simeon held up a finger and shook his head. 

"... _However,_ I do not intend to leave town, just yet. Think on it, will you?" He flashed Mattias a toothy smile. "I will be waiting eagerly to know if you are still so interested in further loosening your chains, tonight." 

For a moment, Simeon thought he might honestly say no. Which would have been a shame, no doubt... but the seed was well and truly planted, now. There was always next time. But, no -- to his delight, Mattias gave him a curt nod, his stormy eyes full of what Simeon hoped would translate later to delicious intent. 

He left with a light heart and a renewed enthusiasm for the many errands he had left to run. They would have to be very careful. Whatever this translated to, tonight, it couldn't be allowed to affect their work. The organization they sought to build would need to last generations if their plans were to come to fruition.

But surely that didn't mean they couldn't have a touch of fun here and there along the way. 

* 

He set the scene perfectly. Scented candles, a vase of roses, a scattering of silken petals across the bedsheets. Metal cuffs, linked together with a single, solid chain of steel. These he dangled playfully from one finger, admiring them even as he listened to the telltale creak of the floorboards signaling Mattias's arrival. 

The pretty little waif didn't even bother to knock. Simeon admired him, for that. 

Instead, the door swung open, and Matthew -- _Mattias_ \-- paused there at the threshold, blinking at Simeon's prepared display. His mouth opened. His lips worked, opening and closing, fishing for words that just wouldn't come. Simeon chuckled, low in his throat. 

"Good evening, Mattias," he said, conversationally. He twirled the cuffs around his finger. "Now, I can't imagine why you should look so surprised. We planned for this, did we not?" 

Mattias took a step backward. "I did not ask to be _mocked,_ " he snapped. 

Well, he had always been a prickly one. 

"Mocked?" Simeon quirked an eyebrow, flashing his teeth. "Is this too much? Oh dear. I simply thought, you know, being your first time, and all..." 

"Stop." 

"Did you not wish for it to be special?" He tilted his head, letting the cuffs slip off his fingers and onto the bed with the petals. "Perhaps I misunderstood." 

"You know very well what you're doing," Mattias snapped at him, pulling his robe tighter around him, as though to deny the reasons he had come to begin with. 

"And you knew very well what I would do when you propositioned me, this morning." Simeon shrugged. "Yet still you did, and here I am. Come now, Mattias. I did so love your heartfelt imagery -- the chains! Beautiful. I've prepared a set I think you will much prefer." 

Mattias glowered at him... but simultaneously, he ran his pretty pink tongue over his thin, pale lips, and Simeon knew he had him. 

Simeon let his face drop into bored indifference, and turned away. He waved a dismissal. "Stay or go, but either way, do close the door. You know I appreciate my privacy." 

"You are --" Mattias cut himself off and ground his teeth. His nostrils flared, and then he stepped into the room, fair slamming the door at his back. "I am here for one thing, and one thing only. Mock me all you like, but know that I am using you just as you are using me." 

"Mm," Simeon agreed. He seated himself on the edge of the bed, crossing his legs at the ankles, folding his hands in his lap. "It is not my wish to mock you, Mattias. I wish to _admire_ you. If you would be so kind..." he lifted his chin. "That robe does your figure no favors." 

"Hah." Mattias ran agitated fingers through his hair. He fidgeted with the sash that tied his humble ensemble together, tugging at the knot of it with no conviction. "It never has. I am through with them, after this, I think." 

"Good for _you_ ," Simeon nodded, graciously. "By all means, let your liberation commence." 

Mattias eyed him warily, then straightened his shoulders, took a breath, and pulled the knot in one smooth movement. He let the sash drop to the floor, let the robe fall open, and Simeon sucked in a surprised breath as he realized -- the man was wearing absolutely nothing underneath. His fingers twitched in his lap. He hadn't expected that. Mattias seemed to notice the surprise on his face, because he affected a rather smug expression, then, letting the robe slide off his narrow shoulders to pool on the floor behind him. 

And there he was, all proud, pale flesh, beautiful in the moonlight and the candlelight both. 

Simeon made a small, disapproving sound. "Very dramatic, Mattias," he allowed, "But generally, I _enjoy_ unwrapping my little... gifts." 

"I assumed as much," Mattias said. 

Simeon laughed. "Oh, very good," he said. He stood, running his eyes slowly and purposefully over his body. "I see. Well, I thought I might play nicely, what with this being more of an introductory exercise, for you --" 

"Don't bother," Mattias growled. He strode forward, all bristled purpose, and Simeon held very still, content to wait and see what he would do. Mattias took his hands and pulled him to his feet, and then began working the buttons of his coat. His fingers were so very nimble, almost hypnotizing in their work. "I have no use for your nonsense, tonight, Simeon. I want this over and _done_ , not to linger here in your --" he sneered up at him, his eyes so very baleful, " _tableau._ " 

"I can put out the candles, if it would make you more comfortable, Mattias." 

Mattias undid the last button on Simeon's coat, and pulled the thing roughly off over his shoulders, head shaking. Simeon let it drop. Mattias started on the smaller, more delicate buttons of his blouse, then, and Simeon held his arms out as though he were naught but a mannequin, enduring the treatment in silence. If anything, Mattias seemed to enjoy this. Spots of color spilled over his pale, high cheekbones, and Simeon could swear the pace of his breathing quickened, just so. 

The blouse, too, opened and fell to the floor. 

Simeon opened his mouth to make some cutting quip, but again, Mattias surprised him. He gripped Simeon's bare shoulders and _shoved_ , sending him tumbling backward onto the bed. 

"Good heavens," Simeon murmured, watching with interest as Mattias climbed over him, feeling the hard press of the manacles against the small of his back between him and the coverlet. The discomfort of it, coupled with the hungry look in Mattias's eyes -- he felt himself stir with a sweet sort of heat at last, desire flickering low in his belly. "I will admit, I didn't expect this sort of... assertiveness," he said. 

"I know," Mattias repeated, and there was no doubt now that he had gone a bit breathless. His clever, nimble fingers were back at work undoing his laces, and Simeon threw an arm over his eyes and heaved a heavy sigh. 

"So single minded," he lamented. "Was it too much to hope for a kiss?" 

"I didn't come here to kiss you," Mattias growled. He yanked Simeon's breeches open rather barbarically. Simeon let out a breathless little laugh as his warm, slender fingers delved past his hose and smallclothes and wrapped insistently about his half-hard cock.

"How sad," Simeon sighed. "I have been told on the odd occassion that I have a talent for kissing." 

Mattias said nothing, choosing instead to stroke him in sullen silence, squeezing up and down his length, outright panting atop him, now. Simeon allowed the languid heat to coil through him, stirring him to full attention. He parted his legs and wiggled his hips, content to let Mattias pleasure him. How long had he fantasized about it, after all? True, his fantasies had been perhaps been slightly different -- they mostly involved Mattias bound and gagged and whimpering -- but for a first time, this would surely do. 

"That smile," Mattias muttered, squeezing tighter, quickening his rhythm. Simeon let out a breathy sigh. "Whatever you are thinking, Simeon --" 

"I am thinking, obviously, of how practiced you seem at this." 

Mattias made a scoffing sound and withdrew his hand, leaving Simeon hard and aching. "I've never touched anyone," he admitted. "My reasoning for this liason is exactly as I said." 

"Yes, yes, the _chains_ , Mattias, I remember." Simeon lifted his hips and retrieved the cuffs from underneath him, grinning. "I work better with a cooperative partner, however, you should know." 

Mattias eyed them suspiciously. "Perhaps I should shackle _you_ ," he said. 

"Would you like that?" Simeon blinked up at him, holding the cuffs out. Mattias's eyes widened, and his face blotched a pretty pink. Good. He hadn't been expecting that. 

"As though you would allow it." 

"By all means." He held out the cuffs, dangling them between the two of them. They rattled most invitingly. Mattias licked his lips, again, and then -- just as Simeon had thought -- snatched them from his fingers, flicking the lock open with fingers that were noticeably less sure and steady than they had been. Simeon smirked up at him, holding his wrists out. "Do your worst, Mattias. I look forward to it." 

"I told you," Mattias growled, gripping Simeon's forearm in one hand, the cuffs with the other, "I am not here to play games. This is -- simply ensuring this proceeds efficiently." 

"Whatever you say," Simeon agreed. His cock throbbed as Mattias latched the metal bands around him, tight enough to be ever so slightly uncomfortable. Their wrists were of similar size, it seemed. Mattias gripped the chain and pulled Simeon forward, his eyes shining with unmistakable desire. 

"I intend to use you," Mattias said, voice hot. 

"Please do." 

A beat of disquiet. Mattias released the chains with a sound of disgust. Simeon fell back against the bed, barely suppressing the urge to laugh. He lifted his linked wrists over his head and pressed his hips up against Mattias, all innocence and invitation. Mattias yanked Simeon's breeches down off his hips, and with them all the rest of his underthings, and Simeon lifted himself to assist, humming with delight. The hunger writ plain across the other man's face was so very gratifying. Thus exposed, Mattias positioned himself atop him, straddling his bare hips. Simeon noted with some satisfaction that Mattias, too, was at full attention, his hard cock searing a line atop Simeon's stomach. His pale skin contrasted beautifully with Simeon's darker complexion, painting a wickedly beautiful portrait. Simeon framed it in his mind, garnishing the image with the sound of the chains clinking together overhead mingled with Mattias's ragged breathing. Perfect. 

Mattias guided Simeon with one hand and stroked himself with the other, slow and sweet, and Simeon's cock throbbed again when he realized Mattias had already prepared himself for him. The question was on the tip of his tongue -- just what had this sweet young ex-priest been _doing_ to himself, not so long ago, anticipating this very moment? 

"Don't ask," Mattias warned him, reading the look on his face and the question written plain there, and Simeon let out a little breathless laugh. 

"You'll tell me, eventually," he promised. 

As if in answer, Mattias sank down on his length, hissing softly. Simeon watched his face as he did so, the subtle play of pleasure and pain, biting back a groan of pleasure. It was glorious. Mattias was as tight and hot and perfect around him as he'd always dreamed, and this view -- his face, the cords of his neck standing out in sharp relief -- utter perfection. When he'd taken all he could, Mattias tightened his grip on himself, stroking faster, lips parting with pleasure. 

"Is it all you hoped?" Simeon asked him, fighting to keep his voice calm, the heat under control. It felt so good, so right, so _inevitable_. He had wanted this slender, desperate, sharp-eyed man in his bed from the moment he'd first picked him out of the crowd in Wispermill. He canted his hips up, and Mattias ground down on him, the knot in his throat bobbing as he swallowed, hard. Mesmerizing.

"Be silent," Mattias panted, with such venom in his tone that the heat swirled again, and Simeon had to bite back another appreciative groan. Simultaneously, Mattias lifted himself, and the delicious friction of it did elicit a little gasp from him, this time. Mattias ceased with stroking himself and leaned backward, balancing himself with his hands, and then slid back down, hard and fast. Simeon sighed. Mattias sucked in quick, shallow breaths, fucking himself on Simeon's cock. Using him, as he had said. 

Simeon waited until Mattias found his rhythm, until he was gasping and groaning with each slide down his length, until sweat rolled down his lovely long neck and sticky beads of moisture dripped from the tip of his beautiful cock and smeared themselves across his belly. He could feel how close he was, feel him trembling on the edge. 

Only then did he make his move. He snapped his hips up, hard. Mattias made a surprised sound, nearly losing his balance, and while he recovered from that, sliding in one sweet movement off his cock, Simeon sat up in one smooth motion, hooking the chain that linked his arms around Mattias's back. He pulled him forward, and Mattias gasped, toppling backward, utterly off balance. His eyes were hazy with pleasure, his face red, his lips swollen where he had bitten them in his ministrations. Simeon grinned at him, pulling the chains roughly up from under him. 

"Simeon," Mattias gasped, and that was all the protest Simeon allowed him. A moment later, he had the chain pressed tight over his throat, cutting off his air and all his words of protest with it. Mattias's eyes flew wide. His hands fluttered up to grasp at the chain to no avail. Simeon made a point of _seeming_ weaker than he truly was. 

He leaned over Mattias, breathing hard. "I'll be taking that kiss, now," he promised. 

Mattias tried to resist him, but in the end his body had to _try_ and breathe, and thus his lips parted and Simeon tasted his fill, after all. Fire and ashes and anger and tragedy, an impossible elixir to resist. Simeon left his lips wet and bruised and tinging blue before he released the pressure of the chain drawn tight across his pretty neck, and Mattias sucked in a lungful of sweet air, coughing and gasping. 

Simeon left him to it, concentrating instead on moving his hips, positioning himself just right, lining himself with Mattias's hole and driving forward, tip to stem in one hard thrust. He let himself moan, then, watching Mattias's face work, watching him gasp and wheeze and writhe beneath him, eyes full of hate. Simeon did not so much as grin as bare his teeth down at him, and then he tightened the chains once more and fucked into him hard. His scrabbling hands scratched at Simeon's forearms, his eyes rolled up into his head, and three vicious thrusts later, Mattias spilled himself in messy spurts between them, his beautiful face the shade of a particularly nasty bruise. Simeon laughed, pulling out, driving in, hard and fast. He was close, himself. He could feel his edge approaching, and he chased after it shamelessly. 

"Who is using who, now," he gasped, fucking in and out of him, loosing the chains just a fraction. Mattias dragged another greedy breath into his lungs, his eyes watering, tears tracking down his face from the corners of his eyes. "Tell me who, Mattias!" 

" _Fuck you_ ," Mattias croaked, and this time he had the sense to see it coming, and sucked in another lungful of air before Simeon could tighten the chains again. 

Simeon laughed, laughed and then gasped and then groaned his pleasure, spilling inside of him, thrusting eagerly as he did so. He waited until the pleasure had rolled completely through him and his cock had begun to go limp inside of him before loosening the chains again. Mattias's chest heaved. His soft, lovely throat was already mottling with angry bruises. Simeon took a portrait of that in his mind's eye, as well. He'd get much use out of it later, he knew, on long, sad nights so much lonelier than this. 

He pulled himself back and loomed over Mattias on his knees. Mattias glared up at him, his fingers already exploring the sore, puffy marks on his neck. 

"Next time," Simeon said, very seriously, "I suggest _you_ wear the cuffs, hm?" 

"Bastard," Mattias breathed, raggedly. He left off exploring his wounds with a wince and wiped his face, rubbed his watering eyes. " _Next time._ As though there will be any such thing." His voice was hoarse, sullen. Talking had to be causing him some amount of pain. Simeon admired him for doing it anyway. 

"We can pretend otherwise, if you prefer..." 

"There will be no _next time!_ " 

"If you insist. Regardless, be a gentleman and retrieve the key from that drawer for me, will you?" 

Mattias sat up, slowly, and cast him with an incredulous look. "Simeon," he rasped. 

"Yes?" 

"Go fuck yourself." He slid off the bed and stood on trembling legs, breathing deep before bending to retrieve his discarded robe. He cast him one last baleful look over his slender little shoulder, and then flounced out of the room in a billow of staid white linen. 

Simeon fell back against the pillows, laughing softly. Glorious. He lifted his hands and pulled a thin metal pick from where it stuck only slightly askew in the tie that bound his hair back. He held it between his teeth and had the lock open quick enough. Amazing what one could accomplish with a bit of practice. He shook his fingers out, rubbing his wrists, and let the cuffs drop over the side of the bed. 

Already, he found himself playing back images from the experience, his body fluttering with anticipation. 

Between that and all the half-formed plans he had in mind for next time -- for he knew without a doubt, a next time there would be -- it was sure to be a very long, very distracting sort of night.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in response to a prompt received on my blog, which you can find on Tumblr here: [@sealticge](http://sealticge.tumblr.com)


End file.
